Monday, May 28, 2012

Voltaire on the Book of Enoch


Marvellous to relate, we have found that Voltaire, in the article "Angels" in his Philosophical Dictionary, has written about the pseudepigraphal Book of Enoch.  The following quotations are all taken from The Works of Voltaire (1901 ed., 42 vols., English trans.), a reasonably accurate transcription of which we found on the Internet:
 
The Hebrews knew nothing of the fall of the angels until the commencement of the Christian era. This secret doctrine of the ancient Brahmins must have reached them at that time, for it was then that the book attributed to Enoch, relative to the sinful angels driven from heaven, was fabricated.
 
Enoch must have been a very ancient writer, since, according to the Jews, he lived in the seventh generation before the deluge. But as Seth, still more ancient than he, had left books to the Hebrews, they might boast of having some from Enoch also. According to them Enoch wrote as follows:
 
"It happened, after the sons of men had multiplied in those days, that daughters were born to them, elegant and beautiful. And when the angels, the sons of heaven, beheld them they became enamored of them, saying to each other: 'Come, let us select for ourselves wives from the progeny of men, and let us beget children.' Then their leader, Samyaza, said to them: 'I fear that you may perhaps be indisposed to the performance of this enterprise, and that I alone shall suffer for so grievous a crime.' But they answered him and said: 'We all swear, and bind ourselves by mutual execrations, that we will not change our intention, but execute our projected undertaking.'
 
"Then they swore all together, and all bound themselves by mutual execrations. Their whole number was two hundred, who descended upon Ardis, which is the top of Mount Armon. That mountain, therefore, was called Armon, because they had sworn upon it, and bound themselves by mutual execrations. These are the names of their chiefs: Samyaza, who was their leader; Urakabarameel, Akabeel, Tamiel, Ramuel, Danel, Azkeel, Sarakuyal, Asael, Armers, Batraal, Anane, Zavebe, Samsaveel, Ertael, Turel, Yomyael, Arazyal. These were the prefects of the two hundred angels, and the remainder were all with them.
 
"Then they took wives, each choosing for himself, whom they began to approach, and with whom they cohabited, teaching them sorcery, incantations, and the dividing of roots and trees. And the women, conceiving, brought forth giants, whose stature was each three hundred cubits," etc.
 
The author of this fragment writes in the style which seems to belong to the primitive ages. He has the same simplicity. He does not fail to name the persons, nor does he forget the dates; here are no reflections, no maxims. It is the ancient Oriental manner.
 
It is evident that this story is founded on the sixth chapter of Genesis: "There were giants in the earth in those days, and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown." Genesis and the Book of Enoch perfectly agree respecting the coupling of the angels with the daughters of men, and the race of giants which sprung from this union; but neither this Enoch, nor any book of the Old Testament, speaks of the war of the angels against God, or of their defeat, or of their fall into hell, or of their hatred to mankind.
   

Yoga: Another View


  
By now almost everyone has seen an advertisement for the preposterous work entitled Autobiography of a Yogi, written long ago by the pseudonymous Paramahansa Yogananda, and advertised in innumerable issues of  tabloids.     Early in the 1920s, Yogananda immigrated from India to the USA, settling in (of course!) California, where he established his Self-Realization Fellowship.  The Autobiography is replete with one cliche after another:  Flowers appear out of the empty air, a mountain moves,  a fakir climbs a rope and disappears from sight.   The book appeared before the sightings of Unidentified Flying Objects, which probably explains why they failed to fly past the gaze of the swami Yogananda.

    This work, still in print, epitomizes the popular view of Yoga as an irrational cult.  Its preface assures the reader that Yogananda's corpse did not decay after his death.  Presumably, it did not prove to be as enduring as that of Lenin, however, because no illustration of it is offered for the reader's wonderment.  That is another assertion to be taken on faith. 

Libraries are more likely to have copies of the works of Swami Vivekananda.  Probably, Paramahansa has always been rather too much for most librarians, but the more academic approach of Vivekananda has won for his works more shelf space in academic libraries.   Still, Vivekananda delivers the anti-rational gospel of Yoga with which we are familiar, albeit without the miracles of Yogananda:   Yoga is all about dissolving the individual ego into the eternal.
 
Miguel Serrano, who served as Chile's ambassador to India, offers a radically different view of Yoga in his book The Serpent of Paradise (1963).   Serrano reports that Swami Janardana had something totally different to tell him about Yoga:
 
" Those who talk about dissolving the individual ego in Brahma do not know what they are talking about. . . . In this world our only weapon is the intellect.  Indeed, I will go further and say that spiritual truths can be understood only by an intellect that has become pure.  You may say that this idea is modernistic, but in fact it originated in the teachings of Sanatana Dharma twelve thousand years ago.  The Yoga that is known popularly in the West, and which aims at a dissolution of the individual ego in a superior ego, is merely the Yoga of Patanjali, which was popularized by Swami Vivekananda.  The true Yoga, however, is Suddha-Yoga, which antedates Patanjali.  This Yoga is quite different from the later type, for true Hindu philosophy does not aim at the dissolution of the individual nor the abolition of reason.  On the contrary, it tries to find divinity within the heart and to make life divine.  It is therefore concerned with the transference of the personality center from one point to another, and with the location of those centers.  This is very difficult to do, since these centers are at the same time located in a particular place and generally influential over the whole being.  Moreover, since the very idea that personality emanates from these centers is hypothetical, I cannot accept the analogy which is occasionally used to illustrate the evolution or change of personality in an individual, and which uses the symbol of the worm and the butterfly and the idea of passing from the one into the other.  For, in fact, the metamorphosis may be in quite another direction.  In short, I believe in the Individualized Spirit."






[Originally written on Oct 8, 2006]

Sunday, May 27, 2012

The Book of Enoch

   
Dover Publications has just this year reprinted the 1917  S.P.C.K. edition of R. H. Charles's translation of  The Book of Enoch, with an introduction by W. O. E. Oesterley.  Although somewhat costly (at $7.95) for a paperback book of only 160 pages, I could not resist the temptation to buy a copy so that I might once again read this most fascinating of apocryphal and apocalyptic works.   (An earlier translation, by C. H. Schodde, is available online at cimmay.us  Cimmay.us also has texts of numerous other apocryphal works and many interesting theological tracts from the 19th century and earlier.)
 
Enoch, also known as 1 Enoch  or Ethiopic Enoch to distinguish it from a later work also ascribed to Enoch, is unique among the apocryphal works because it is quoted in a canonical work,  a work firmly established as part of the New Testament, specifically verses 14 and 15 of Jude.   Verse 13 of Jude ("Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever") also has a source in Enoch, chapter 18, verses 12-16:  "12.  And beyond that abyss I saw a place which had no firmament of the heaven above, and no firmly rounded earth beneath it:  there was no water upon it, and no birds, but it was a waste and horrible place.  13.  I saw there seven stars like great burning mountains, and to me, when I inquired regarding them,  14.  The angel said:  'This place is the end of heaven and earth:  this has become a prison for the stars and the host of heaven.  15.  And the stars which roll over the fire are they which have transgressed the commandment of the Lord in the beginning of their rising, because they did not come forth at their appointed times.  16.  And He was wroth with them, and bound them till the time when their guilt should be consummated even for ten thousand years.' "  (This interpretation is taken from The Interpreter's Bible.)
 
According to Rev. Oesterley's introduction, Enoch was most probably written by Sadducees, not Pharisees, sometime around 200 to 100 B.C.  He notes that the solar calendar of the Sadducees is advocated in Enoch, which is very heavily laden with astronomical lore, rather than the lunar calendar of the Pharisees.  Also, the fact that Enoch suggests that some gentiles will be saved is a strong indicator of authorship by a party other than the Pharisees, who foresaw only damnation and extinction for all peoples other than the Jews.  (With the destruction of the Temple by the Romans in 70 A.D., of course, the Pharisees became the de facto ruling party in Judaism.)
 
Julius Evola, in his Revolt Against the Modern World, stresses the fact that the Semites were worshippers of the moon goddess while the Indo-Europeans were worshippers of the sky god.   This would explain the image of the star and crescent moon in Islam.  Evola's generalization is supported in part by Carroll Quigley in his Evolution of Civilizations.  Some of the beliefs of the Sadducees, especially their denials of a bodily resurrection and of the existence of angels and demons, suggest that they were open to Indo-European influences in their thinking, unlike the Pharisees.   The Jewish Encyclopedia (1901) states that the Sadducees came under Hellenistic influences.
 
Enoch presents a fascinating tour of the heavens and the earth by its protagonist.  It is exceedingly difficult to conceptualize this, but attempts have been made to draw maps, or schematic charts, of the world as revealed by Enoch's journey.  Enoch's mention of the mysterious Watchers has enhanced its popularity among followers of the New Age.   Whitley Strieber, famous author of accounts of people being abducted by "aliens" from outer space, identifies the latter with the Watchers.   The "Greys," the most popular representation of "aliens" from outer space, would seem to have little to do with angels, fallen or otherwise.  They seem to be closer to demons.   If I recall correctly, one survey of public opinion revealed that eleven percent of the general population of the USA believe that some people have been abducted by "aliens" from outer space.  That explains a lot of things!
 
Postscript:   Could the seven stars of the 18th chapter of Enoch be the Pleiades?  The Pleiades are recognized by that name in the King James Version in Job 9:9; 38:31.   The Geneva Bible also recognizes the Pleiades in Amos 5:8.     Neither Charles nor Schodde, in their respective notes on Enoch, refers to the Pleiades, not further defining the seven stars.   Also, the seven stars in Enoch seem to be outcasts, abodes of evil.  That does not accord with the popular image of the Pleiades among the so-called UFO contactees.  Billy Meier, especially, sees all good coming from the Pleiades.  The Pleiades of Enoch would seem to be an appropriate headquarters for the sinister "Greys."
          

An Addendum to Jorge Luis Borges on Heaven


Some of the book reviews by Jorge Luis Borges are as fascinating as his stories.  Consider, for example, his observation at the end of his review of Leslie Weatherhead's book on the survival of death.  Borges notes that " Catholics (read: Argentine Catholics) believe in an ultraterrestrial world, but I have noticed that they are not interested in it.  With me the opposite occurs:  I am interested but I do not believe. "
 
Samuel Clemens was another unbeliever who, like Borges, speculated at some length as to what the heaven of the believers must be like.  Why, then, do the believers not show more interest in the diurnal details of their heaven?
 
A clue regarding an answer to this question emerges from an aside in Sir Thomas Browne's "Hydriotaphia (Urn-Burial)," which I have only recently read, having long ago read his better-known "Religio Medici."  Browne reasons that "Were the happiness of the next world as closely apprehended as the felicities of this, it were a martyrdom to live; and unto such as consider none hereafter, it must be more than death to die, which makes us amazed at those audacities that durst be nothing and return into their chaos again. "
 
Other places in Browne make one stop and think.  Consider the question of those who do good deeds all their lives and die unknown while the names of the evil may live on in their infamy.   Browne believes that " To be nameless in worthy deeds, exceeds an infamous history.  The Canaanitish woman lives more happily without a name, than Herodias with one.  And who had not rather been the good thief than Pilate? "
 
Elsewhere, Browne refers to the legends of Enoch and Elias, who were directly transported to heaven without first dying:  " Enoch and Elias, without either tomb or burial, in an anomalous state of being, are the great examples of perpetuity, in their long and living memory, in strict account being still on this side death, and having a late part yet to act upon this stage of earth. "
 
Browne appears to be referring to the prophet now known as Elijah, who was to be the forerunner of the messiah and with whom many people identified John the Baptist (Luke 1:17, John 1:21).  Enoch, of course, was reputedly the subject of the Book of Enoch, a non-canonical book which is referred to as scripture in the canonical Book of Jude.

    

Nietzsche's Monsters



The following is aphorism 143 from Walter Kaufmann's translation (as The Gay Science ) of Nietzsche's  Die froehliche Wissenschaft :

" The greatest advantage of polytheism.— For an individual to posit his own ideal and to derive from it his own law, joys, and rights—that may well have been considered hitherto as the most outrageous human aberration and as idolatry itself; the few who dared as much always felt the need to apologize to themselves, usually by saying: "Not I! Not I! But a god through me!" The wonderful art and gift of creating gods—polytheism—was the medium through which this impulse could discharge, purifiy, perfect, and ennoble itself: for originally it was a very undistinguished impulse, related to stubbornness, disobedience and envy. Hostility against this impulse to have an ideal of one's own was formerly the central law of all morality. There was only one norm: "man"—and every people thought that it possessed this one ultimate norm. But above and outside, in some distant overworld, one was permitted to behold a plurality of norms: one god was not considered a denial of another god, nor blasphemy against him! Here the luxury of individuals was first permitted, here one first honored the rights of individuals. The invention of gods, heroes, and overmen of all kinds, as well as near-men and undermen, of dwarfs, fairies, centaurs, satyrs, demons and devils was the inestimable preliminary exercise for the justification of the egoism and sovereignty of the individual: the freedom that one conceded to a god in his relation to other gods one eventually also granted to oneself in relation to laws, customs, and neighbors. Monotheism, on the other hand, this rigid consequence of the doctrine of one normal human type— the faith in one normal god beside whom there are only pseudo-gods [falsche Lügengötter]—was perhaps the greatest danger that has yet confronted humanity: it threatened us with the premature stagnation that, as far as we can see, most other species have long reached; for all of them believe in one normal type [Ein Normalthier] and ideal for their species, and they have translated the morality of mores definitively into their own flesh and blood.  In polytheism the free-spiriting and many-spiriting of man obtained its first preliminary form: the strength to create for ourselves our own new eyes and ever again new eyes that are even more are own: hence man alone among all the animals has no eternal horizons and perspectives. "


Nietzsche argues that polytheism liberated man to envision other types of humans even as he envisioned a manifold of gods. If man is created in the image of  God, that is the end for any development of man.  Perhaps even Christians felt this constraint in monotheism, the reason for their development of a kind of tritheism, supplemented by angels and demons.  Even the Muslims supplement their monotheism with angels and the jinn.

Most intriguing is his roll call of man's inventions:   gods, heroes, overmen, near-men, undermen, dwarfs, fairies, centaurs, satyrs, demons, devils.   One thinks of the roll call of the monsters in imaginative fiction.    The near-men ( Nebenmenschen ) I would call parahumans, perhaps a harbinger of a great and unoriginal sin of genetic engineering that looms in our future.  Are Nebenmenschen, Uebermenschen, Untermenschen  a kind of unholy trinity of Nietzscheanism?






  

Lovecraft's Monsters



Putting aside the possible symbolism, psychoanalytic or otherwise, of Lovecraft's monsters, they are there as material creatures.  In the later works of Lovecraft, works of science fiction such as "At the Mountains of Madness" and "The Shadow Out of Time," the monsters do cross illimitable expanses of space and weave in and out of unending aeons of time, but even there they appear as material beings.   Edmund Wilson, in his mordant review of Lovecraft in The New Yorker, ridicules one of the more famous of these monsters as "an invisible whistling octopus."  

While I do not agree with Wilson's sweeping dismissal of Lovecraft, I do find the latter-day monsters of Lovecraft to be anything but horrifying or even interesting.   They are somehow much too far out to be all that alarming.   Even H. G. Wells in one of the final chapters of his The First Men in the Moon (1901) does better in his suggestion of the monstrous.   After the hero Cavor is abducted by the insect-like Selenites and taken deep into the cavernous interior of the moon, he has an opportunity to relay via wireless some account of the moon's natural history.  One passage in passing catches the eye:  " . . . . not infrequently Selenites are lost forever in their labyrinths.  In their remoter recesses, I am told, strange creatures lurk, some of them terrible and dangerous creatures that all the science of the moon has been unable to exterminate.  There is particularly the Rapha, an inextricable mass of clutching tentacles that one hacks to pieces only to multiply; and the Tzee, a darting creature that is never seen, so subtly and suddenly does it slay. "

Here Wells is practicing the same type of cryptozoology as is Lovecraft, but the monsters are more framed, just slightly off-stage, and all the more striking for that reason.   Part of the difference is that Lovecraft's latter-day monsters are somewhere off in the illimitable reaches of outer space while Wells has his monsters in an almost sublunary locale.   One notch down from the Selenites one would find the denizens of the UFOs whom M. K. Jessup believed to be lurking around the moon and in the gravitational neutral areas, the Lagrangian points, of the earth-moon-sun system.
 
To me, the most chilling of Lovecraft's monsters are those which appear in the following of his tales:  "Pickman's Model,"  "The Lurking Fear,"  "The Outsider,"  "The Shadow Over Innsmouth."   In these tales the monsters are all the more chilling because they are, far from being totally alien to humans, in a way all-too-human.   They are weird intergrades or hybrids, usually the products of some suggested miscegenation between humans and non-humans.  Sharing some of our chromosomes, they are all too believable.  The religious would see in them living blasphemies, travesties of man as a creature made in the image of God.

 

One Hurrah for Sloterdijk!



Back in 1988 I reviewed for Library Journal  a book by Peter Sloterdijk called Critique of Cynical Reason.   The book had been translated from the author's native German and was one that I found quite challenging.  Quite frankly, I could barely find top or bottom in it, but, fortunately, reviews in Library Journal are brief.  At the time, I assumed that Sloterdijk, like most other professors of philosophy, was on the political left.

In the following two decades, Sloterdijk published much more,  little of which has been translated into English.   Only in 2009 has there appeared in English a new Sloterdijk title,  God's Zeal:  The Battle of the Three Monotheisms.  Sloterdijk primarily examines Judaism, Christianity and Islam, but he does give passing attention to what he calls a "zealotic counter-religion," Communism.   One of his observations on Communism is especially worthy of note:

" The hatefulness of what was done in the name of Communism was demonstrated to the extreme for judgement by all normal humans -- and if one still occasionally encounters the opinion that the atrocities committed on the other side surpassed those of Communism, it is primarily because those in the corresponding circles refuse to accept the facts:  with over 100 million lost lives, the degree of human extermination achieved in Communist systems is several times higher than that of Hitler's regime, which has -- understandably -- been given the title of absolute evil.  The question arises whether a co-absolute evil should not have been added to the collective consciousness long ago. "

This is a remarkable recognition, coming from a professor of philosophy.  Indeed, in the USA, professors of the humanities and the social sciences seem almost without exception to do all that they can to avoid mention of the holocaust perpetrated by the Communists.  Sloterdijk is, of course, a professor of philosophy in Germany, but he gives no evidence of seeking to diminish the horrors of the Third Reich.

Elsewhere in God's Zeal Sloterdijk deplores the fact that " If there were an American trinity it would consist of Jesus, Machiavelli and the spirit of money.  The postmodern credo was formulated in exemplary fashion by the Afro-American actor Forest Whitaker when he gave his speech of thanks upon receiving the Oscar for the best leading role in 2007, closing with the words:  'And I thank God for always believing in me.' "

Sloterdijk has a readiness to tell it like it is that is exceptional and praiseworthy among academicians.